


No Hard Feelings

by azuresky18, MarzgaPerez



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Beckman Correctional (Shameless US), Bottom Mickey Milkovich, Canon Compliant, Exhibitionism, Gallavich, Gay Sex, M/M, Masturbation, Original Character(s), Prison, Prison Sex, Top Ian Gallagher, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-12
Updated: 2019-11-12
Packaged: 2021-01-29 16:40:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21413329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/azuresky18/pseuds/azuresky18, https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarzgaPerez/pseuds/MarzgaPerez
Summary: Ian and Mickey have a year of prison life under their belts. They're close to being released when a new corrections officer strikes up a flirtation with Mickey that leads to a jealous Ian...and an exchange that the three of them won't forget any time soon.
Relationships: Ian Gallagher & Mickey Milkovich, Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich
Comments: 33
Kudos: 324





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to whaticameherefor, as always, for her dedication and work as a beta reader for this fic. :)

_ Fuuuuuuck! _

Not only was Mickey the last one to arrive for lunch, but there were a dozen tall-ass motherfuckers in front of him, blocking his view of the desserts still left to be claimed. And he’d missed the chance to eat with Ian, who he spotted in the corner, staring blankly at the boorish guard rapping on his table and telling him to move along.

Ian got up and looked regretfully in Mickey’s direction as he tossed his tray into the garbage, including a cup of green Jell-O with the plastic wrap still intact. He mouthed, _“Sorry_.” Like the dutiful boyfriend he was, Gallagher had nabbed it for Mickey, but he couldn’t wait around any longer. Nor could he risk passing the Jell-O to him in line. The guards seemed fine with inmates crafting shivs, but overt sharing of leftovers was apparently a cardinal sin. He got an “A” for effort, but a fat lot of good it did.

And just as he’d figured there would be, the only dessert left by the time Mickey arrived at the counter was butterscotch pudding. _ Hard fucking pass. _Mickey wanted his goddamn Jell-O, and this time there weren’t any fat fuckers he could beat down who were trying to steal it from him. It was just shitty luck on his part.

The only two damn things Mickey had been looking forward to - dessert and eating said dessert with his green-eyed hunk of a boyfriend - were both gone before he could enjoy them. And no, dinner wasn’t an option because the dinner meal at Beckman only came with a side of canned fruit cocktail.

Mickey barely spoke a word to the inmates working the serving line, accepting whatever slop they sloshed onto his tray. He grabbed a seat at a corner table, still deciding if he was going to shove the nasty shit down or go buy some Ramen noodles from the commissary. Ultimately, he decided to just deal with the disgusting food. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed one of the newer COs laughing it up with the servers. Mickey had forgotten his name already, but he hadn’t forgotten the look of sheer terror in the newbie’s eyes when a fight broke out yesterday in the showers. The CO had brought up the rear as one of the more seasoned veterans, plus Mickey, rushed in to break it up. The poor fuck had looked a lot like Indiana Jones rushing into a pit of vipers; it was almost enough to make Mickey feel bad for the guy. Almost.

Mickey continued to pick at his food, casually observing the new CO as he headed into the main area of the mess hall, toward the tables where the inmates were either sitting silently or chatting quietly amongst themselves. He neared Mickey’s table, and the brunet could swear the dude was staring at him. His eyes flicked down to his name tag, which read “A. Walters.” Their eyes met.

The CO was the epitome of a rookie, if there ever was one. Likely in his early twenties, average height and build, awkward in his own skin, and usually assigned to their block since most of the inmates were “tamer,” so to speak.

As soon as he was out of earshot, Mickey turned to a fellow inmate, a short, stocky, guy named Williams who looked to be in his mid-forties. He couldn’t remember his first name, but he was pretty sure it was Damien.

“What’s the deal with the new screw?” Mickey asked.

“Name’s Walters,” Williams answered.

“Yeah, I see that. But what’s he like? He decent and all? Haven’t seen him much, but looks like a fuckin’ pushover."

That was how Mickey discovered that Walters, whom the inmates referred to as “Andrew” at his insistence, was definitely one of the nicer guards, but unquestionably green around the gills. “He’ll turn into an asshole like the rest of them one day...or quit.” Williams shrugged and picked up his tray. “Later, man."

“See ya.”

Mickey was by himself at the table now, which suited him just fine since he was about finished. A Snickers bar from the commissary was looking really good.

CO Walters’ rounds of pacing brought him closer to his table again, and Mickey took another look at the guard. He was definitely good-looking with that same boyish, “awww, shucks” kind of vibe Mickey had found appealing about Gallagher when he was younger. That is, until Ian had gone and gotten all ripped and filled out with that gorgeous jaw of his that worked Mickey’s cock so fucking well. He willed himself not to think about that and get a boner right here, much less one from comparing one of the damn COs to Ian.

_ What the fuck has gotten into me that I’m staring at a fucking screw and thinking he’s hot? _ It was a bizarre turn of events, but he went with it. He was allowed to _ look _ at other dudes, wasn’t he, especially being cooped up in this nut house.

And unless Mickey was extremely mistaken, this dude - Andrew - was _ definitely _ checking him out. Their eyes met again as the CO brushed past the table and dropped something on Mickey’s tray, but he was gone before the brunet could fully comprehend what had happened. 

When he looked down, there was a container of Jell-O in front of him. He scanned the area to make sure no one else had noticed because the last thing he needed was to be seen getting favors from a guard. Thank fuck Williams had taken off.

Mickey gobbled down the Jell-O and got up to leave, glancing over his shoulder to make sure his eyes weren’t deceiving him. Andrew had a big, goofy-ass grin on his face and was blatantly staring at his ass. _ This guy has some nerve. _ But Mickey would be lying to himself if he didn’t admit that he found the whole thing mildly flattering. Ian was usually the one attracting all the attention, so whatever this was, felt kind of nice.

* * *

It was a day later when CO “Andrew” was making rounds in the bowels of the prison, a.k.a. the laundry room. Mickey had been assigned to washing and folding laundry since day one. The job beat scrubbing toilets, but there was plenty of nasty shit he had to separate out of the bundles of prison-issued garments and sheets that came though - bloody needles, used condoms and, of course, drawers of all sizes soiled with a variety of bodily fluids. After this experience, Mickey swore up and down he’d never do laundry again.

When Andrew strolled by, swinging his baton back and forth like he was some kind of big shot, Mickey decided to ask him about the other day and his surprise “gift.” _ And why the fuck not? _He needed to let the guard know they were not pals.

“‘Scuse me, CO Walters?”

“At ease, Inmate Milkovich. Call me ‘Andrew’ or ‘Andy,’ if you’d like.” 

Dude had a nice smile, but was not someone Mickey would have noticed in “real” life. Probably wouldn’t have thought much about him at Beckman either, had it not been for the Jell-O.

“Uh, sure. Yeah, Andrew. Was wondering about that thing you left on my tray. What gives?”

Andrew laughed awkwardly. “Thought you knew already. I wanted to thank you for helping me out the other day. You know, when that fight broke out.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not looking for any handouts. Gonna be released soon, and I don’t need any favors,” Mickey scoffed, fully aware the CO could write him up just for speaking menacingly.

“Relax, Milkovich. Like I said, it wasn’t anything special.” Andrew gripped his baton again. “You kinda remind me of my ex, though. Mr. Tough Guy.”

He seemed to be waiting for a reply from Mickey, head cocked and lips wearing a smirk, when another inmate passed by with a cart of dirty laundry. Andrew cleared his throat and changed his tone to sound more authoritative. “Get back to work, inmate.”

“Yes, sir,” muttered Mickey, wondering how Andrew even knew about his love of Jell-O in the first place. _ Guess he’s my stalker now_, mused Mickey. _ Never had one of those before._

* * *

As it was, Andrew quickly became a regular presence in Mickey and Ian’s wing, presumably since the less violent and dangerous inmates were placed here and the higher-ups at Beckman decided not to throw him to the wolves yet. 

He was chatty with most of the inmates who felt like engaging with him, which included Ian, but Mickey stayed quiet around the guy, mildly worried that there was some sort of connection they’d sparked, an unspoken mutual agreement that they found each other attractive. He couldn’t put his finger on exactly how he knew this or why he felt a literal shift in the atmosphere around him whenever Andrew was nearby, but Mickey was doing his best to ensure that fact didn’t let itself become known. 

“At least he seems decent,” Ian commented one evening over dinner. “I mean, at one point in time I would have been accepting of someone barking orders at me like a drill sergeant, but this wasn’t exactly what I had in mind.”

“Yeah. Ain’t too many of them like that. Got some real bad ones when I got locked up the first time. Even some bad eggs in juvie.” Privately, Mickey doubted Ian would consider someone who was staring at Mickey’s ass and comparing him to his ex “decent” if he ever found out.

The general consensus seemed to be that Andrew was an okay dude, maybe even wholesome - that was, until a bizarre turn of events started to make Mickey rethink that assessment. It started as a mere possibility, but unless he was _ very _mistaken, the fucker had started watching Ian and Mickey through the small window of their cell as they fucked around with each other.

Ian seemed oblivious to the horny fuck, but how could he have missed those dark, piercing eyes fixated on their every move, every grunt, every moan? It was questionable whether Andrew could hear them through the glass, but he sure as fuck got a good show.

The first time Mickey noticed the perv, Ian had been down on his knees, blowing Mickey against the steel post of their shoddy bunk beds. It was right after breakfast, and they were bored as fuck, waiting on weekly visitation. Mickey was sort of down because Ian had his siblings coming and Mickey had no one. 

His consolation prize had been Gallagher’s hungry mouth working his cock, Ian’s fingers finding their way into Mickey’s mouth. Once they were nice and wet, Ian slipped one, then two of his long-ass fingers into the brunet’s asshole, causing them both to moan a little louder.

“Feels so good. Love it when you suck my cock. Such a fuckin’ talented mouth.”

Ian gave a muffled moan in response, which turned Mickey on even more, if that were even possible. The sensation of Ian fingering him and swallowing his cock down was amazing - he almost forgot about how shitty it was to not have anyone give a fuck that he was locked up. At least he was with the one person he’d given everything up to be with - his pride, his freedom, his inhibitions. Fuck, Gallagher could take it all - he was taking it all, as a matter of fact. He took every inch, every thrust, every rough pull of his hair as Mickey fucked his mouth.

Mickey knew he wasn’t going to last much longer, managing to pant out a quick, “Here it comes,” when he felt his balls tighten and his release explode down Ian’s throat. Ian swallowed everything Mickey gave him. “Good boy,” Mickey growled at Ian. “Such a good cum slut for me. So fucking hot.”

Just as he was coming down from his orgasm, Mickey slowly opened his eyes and realized they had an audience. An audience of one.

Once spotted, Andrew stepped away quickly, but before he returned to his post, Mickey noticed the red hue that had spread across his cheeks. It was strangely amusing.

Mickey thought about mentioning the incident to Ian right away, but he’d been distracted by the way his boyfriend made sure to lick him clean before rising up and pressing his mouth against Mickey’s. He’d saved a taste of his release to push into his boyfriend’s mouth, tongues swirling together as Ian grinded against him, his rock hard cock pressed into Mickey’s thigh, but they’d have to wait until later for the next round.

“Mmm,” Ian purred. “Love sucking you off. It’s always so hot when you moan for me like you do.”

“It’s only cuz of the fuckin’ amazing mouth you got on you, Gallagher.”

While he waited patiently for Ian to return from visitation, Mickey decided to keep quiet about Andrew catching them in the act. When Ian came back from visiting with his younger sister, Debbie, he was full of information about home. Apparently, she’d set up a room for the two of them, knowing their release from prison was just a few weeks away. Ian was scheduled for November 15, and Mickey a month later. They’d be apart for Thanksgiving, but together by Christmas, which was more than good enough for both of them. _ At last_.

This was their chance to start a life together, granted, with some new challenges but nothing like before, so the last thing Mickey wanted to do was keep secrets from his boyfriend. There had been enough of that shit already to last them a lifetime. 

Guilt settled over him and he swiftly changed his mind; he needed to let Ian know about their new and unexpected admirer, but Mickey figured Ian was going to tease him and say he imagined the whole thing. Surely, the CO had peeked into their cell by mistake, tried to look away and then he’d been caught by Mickey and would be too embarrassed to let it happen again. He wasn’t the first CO in the history of their incarceration to see something like that. He’d learn to just move on and have a chuckle to himself, like all the rest.

* * *

Except he didn’t. A few days later they were fucking, Ian pounding Mickey into the mattress of the bottom bunk while Mickey was in a prone position on the bed with his aching cock rubbing against the rough sheets. It was no easy task, given that Ian’s giant shoulders kept knocking into the bars of the bunk above him, but he didn’t seem to notice or care.

“God, Mick. You’re so fucking tight. Take me so good,” he moaned in his partner's ear.

Mickey was meeting every one of his thrusts. “Shit, Gallagher. Fuck me harder.” He gripped the sheets and the mattress as he pictured Ian’s trembling mouth and blown pupils, their boisterous moans echoing off the walls of their tiny cell. His fingers tightened in the fabric as he got lost in the feeling of Ian’s thick cock stretching him out in the way he loved and could still never get enough of.

“Fuuuck,” Mickey whined, not caring how needy he sounded. “Fuck me. Harder! Feels so good. Please don’t fuckin’ stop. Fuck!”

“Love it when you beg for me. So hot.”

“Shut up and keep fuckin’ me, bitch.”

The redhead seemed to be on the brink of coming, fucking into Mickey at a frenzied pace, though making sure he was hitting his prostate, oblivious to the fact that Mickey had one eye open, searching for any movement near the door - a flash of a uniformed shoulder or even the side of a cheek pressed against the glass. Ian’s relentless thrusts and desperate moans were always enough to take him over the edge regardless of any extenuating circumstances, but fuck if Mickey wasn’t even more turned on by the idea of a spectator. Noises of pleasure continued pouring out of his mouth even as his mind started to briefly wander elsewhere.

He had mostly convinced himself that Andrew had seen them by accident before, given that he hadn’t greeted them at meal time with his usual half-wave and refused to look Mickey in the eye. The poor fucker must have been embarrassed, probably wasn’t used to seeing two lovers go at it, not the way he and Ian did it - body, mind and fucking soul went into that shit.

Unbelievably turned on, Mickey was close to coming, his entire body blissed out from the steady attention directed at his sweet spot, plus the friction from his dick being pushed into the mattress, leaking all over. Ian was gripping his hips, clearly about to orgasm, urging his lover to come at the same time. “Baby, gonna fill you up so good. Come for me, Mick. Fuuuuuck!”

“Yeah. Fuckin’ gimme that hot load,” Mickey grunted as his body neared its own release. “Fuck, I’m gonna shoot, too. _ Fuck_!

And that’s when Andrew made his presence known, standing squarely in front of the door, his entire face and gaping mouth visible in the glass pane, visible to Mickey only because Ian’s eyes were closed, his dick softening inside of Mickey as he sucked against his boyfriend's neck and reached around to jerk Mickey to completion. But he was already there, crying out like it was the second coming of Gay Jesus, feeling his cock pulse as he spilled his seed all over the mattress and the sheets. In the throes of orgasm, Mickey’s eyes met Andrew’s briefly as he realized the guard was fixated on him, rather than his gorgeous hunk of a boyfriend.

And his timing was flawless: Andrew moved away before Ian had any idea he’d been there in the first place. _ Shit, I should say something, shouldn’t I? _ This was starting to feel like cheating, but Mickey was almost in disbelief that he’d attracted the attention of someone other than Ian - for once, since Ian usually got all the wandering eyes. Better yet, it was someone who was pretty fucking hot and clearly didn’t mind a little abuse of power. _ Fucker_.

* * *

From then on, Andrew made a point of passing by their cell during every one of his shifts, seemingly wishing and hoping for some hot, X-rated action between the two Southies. Sometimes he got what he came for, but on occasion, Mickey and Ian took a break from burying the bone to just chill in their cell and shoot the shit. As nice as it was to get Ian’s hard nine inches as much as possible, sometimes they needed to just hang out.

Ian seemed none the wiser about the Andrew situation, but it was starting to eat away at Mickey. If they were going to really make a commitment to being open and honest with one another on the outside, Mickey needed to just bite the bullet and tell him. Even if it pissed his boyfriend off, Mickey needed to process all of this shit out loud. He never intended for Andrew to believe he was invited inside their private world. And yet, part of him found it oddly satisfying to know that someone was getting off on him getting off.

“Ian?” he said after one especially good round of hard fucking, the redhead’s shoulder buried in his neck as the heaving pair of sweaty bodies moved as one in the bed. 

“Yeah?”

“I gotta tell you something,” Mickey paused, biting nervously into his lower lip. “I don’t know if you noticed, but the CO who’s posted outside our cell has been watching us fuck.”

Ian perked up, lifted himself off of Mickey and looked at his partner incredulously. “He’s been _ watching us fuck_? Like just now? Or has he done it before and it just never occurred to you to bring this up to me at all?”

“Uhh...yeah, yeah, and nope.”

“Smartass.” Ian pulled on his prison-issued white tank top and boxers and huffed at Mickey. “You mean to tell me we’ve had a fucking peeping Tom watching us and you didn’t fucking bother to tell me? For how long?”

“A couple of weeks now.”

Ian shook his head. “Goddamn it, Mickey. What the fuck?!”

“I know, I know,” Mickey sighed, feeling relieved to have this out in the open but oddly disappointed now that the secret was out. “I wasn’t sure how to tell you cuz it was fuckin’ weird, and I wasn’t sure at first.”

“You didn’t know how to tell me? Don’t go down this road again, with us keeping secrets from each other. That’s the last thing we need when we’re this close to the finish line.”

“Ian...I’m fuckin’ sorry, alright? It’s just...there’s a reason why I didn’t say anything earlier. I...kind of thought it was real hot that he was watching us. I liked the idea of him getting off seeing us fuck, him watching you claim me as your own.”

The redhead’s eyebrows shot up in a manner more consistent with his boyfriend’s inimitable brows. “You fucking enjoyed having some perv staring at us while we fucked?”

“Yeah. It’s fuckin’ hot as hell. I was weirded out at first, but decided I liked it.” Not waiting for a reply, Mickey shrugged a shoulder and continued. “I like what I like. You’re always asking me to tell you what I like. Now you fuckin’ know. What, you think I’m gonna start fuckin’ him instead of you?”

There was a long silence, with Mickey not sure if he’d taken things too far or how to interpret any of this. He hoped he hadn’t fucked things up between himself and Ian. To his relief, Ian started to chuckle, then laughed harder until he was holding his sides.

“Holy shit,” Ian said once he could speak again. “You get off on being watched. You’re a fucking exhibitionist. And I never knew.”

Mickey mumbled, “Fuck you, bitch.”

“Already did. Anyway...if you really want to go down this road, I have an idea. It’ll satisfy your sudden desire to get your jollies by having him stare at us, and I’ll get to fucking mark my territory so he knows he doesn’t get to touch what’s _ mine_.”


	2. Chapter 2

Three days before Ian was scheduled to be released, Mickey and Ian decided to put their plan into action. As Andrew was walking both of them down to breakfast, Mickey figured this was their shot and spoke up.

“Hey, Andrew?”

“Yeah?”

Mickey was nothing if not direct. “I know you’ve been watching us fuck in our cell, and we’re wondering if you wanna watch the two of us do it in the showers if you can get us the room to ourselves for maybe half an hour.”

The CO sputtered and stopped where he was walking. Mickey and Ian, who were walking in front of him, cast him baleful looks.

“What...I don’t…”

“Save it,” Mickey said. “I’ve seen you. I’ve seen how you look at me when Gallagher’s pounding my ass and you wish it was you. You fuckin’ wish you could get a piece of this.”

“But it’s fucking _ mine_,” Ian interjected.

“Let’s take this into the hallway so people don’t overhear us.” He led them into a corridor that was off the beaten path from the rest of the wing, casting nervous looks all the while. “You know I’ve been there? I...swear it was an accident the first time. I swear.”

“Yeah. Least you ain’t denying it now,” Mickey shot back. “Anyway...I got a little idea for how we can do this. He gets outta here in just a few days. You wanna see us fuck one last time, you let us do it in the showers. Alone. You guard the door so nobody else comes in.”

Andrew’s eyes widened. “You mean…?”

“Did I fuckin’ stutter?” Mickey shot back.

This time, it was Ian who spoke up. “You heard him. You get to watch the whole time and even whip it out, but you can’t touch either of us. We all end up happy. You get to watch, and we get to fuck outside of our cell. And _ I _ get to show _ you _ what you’ll never have. _ Ever_.”

With some more mild protests from Andrew and cajoling from Mickey, as well as death glares from Ian, the plan was set. After dinner, Ian and Mickey were to be escorted to the shower area during the time when it was normally scheduled to be cleaned since, as fortuitous as it was, their usual janitor had called in sick.

The dinner that day was actually decent, but some of it could have been from the anticipation of knowing what was to come once they finished eating. Before they left their cell, Mickey had slipped the tube of lube he’d bought from commissary into his pocket. Once they’d sat down at the table and started to eat, he reached into his jumpsuit and squeezed it to make sure it was still there.

Ian seemed nervous, almost agitated, and Mickey couldn’t blame him. To say he and Ian were jealous types would be a gross understatement, given that too much of their relationship included pain of sharing each other with someone else. To actually go out of their way and orchestrate a situation where they did so _ willingly _ was unprecedented.

“Plan’s all set?” Mickey asked Ian, more out of a desire to fill the silence with something than to actually get the answer to the question, given he already knew what it would be.

“Yeah,” said Ian, almost stiffly. “We got this. Just hope this all is worth it. Gotta admit, it’s probably a risky thing to do right before we get out.”

“It’ll be worth it.” Mickey touched Ian’s left hand, which he’d let drop underneath the table, with his own. Sensing Ian’s nervous energy, he lowered his voice and attempted to assuage his worries. “You know I love you and I’d never actually want anyone else to fuck me, right? Your dick pretty much ruined my ass for anybody else, but let’s face it, this is really hot.”

“I guess so.”

Mickey frowned at him. “You sure you wanna do this? Still got time to back out. Never pressured you to do shit you weren’t totally comfortable with, and not gonna start now. We gotta be on the same page and we can’t have hard feelings about this later.”

Ian sighed. “Yeah, I’m sure. You want to indulge this fantasy, and I want you to be happy. Always. But I also want to remind him what he can’t fucking have. I want to show that fucker who your hot little ass belongs to, for life.”

“It ain’t little. Pretty sure you know that.”

Ian snorted. “You got that right. Either way, I’ll show him who’s really boss.”

Once they’d shoveled down their last bit of food, they quietly slipped out the back way and headed into the corridor leading toward the showers. Andrew would meet them in the hallway and walk them down to the closed off area, not wanting to draw any unnecessary attention.

Soon enough, Andrew followed them, and the unlikely trio proceeded down the hall in silence. Mickey still couldn’t believe this was happening. A small part in the back of his mind was still worried that Ian wasn’t going to be okay with this. Their sex life was always one of mutual respect and no pressure, and this was so far from the norm as to be ludicrous - but Mickey was turned on beyond the point of rationality.

Once they reached the shower area, Andrew closed the door leading into that corridor and locked it. He turned to the couple behind him, clearly nervous and acting as if the inmates were about to stab him. It dawned on Mickey how naive Andrew really was. He had no way of knowing they _ weren’t _ a pair of psychopaths about to slit his throat, piss in the open wound and call it just another Tuesday.

Chuckling to himself, Mickey let that thought go and concentrated on what he came here for. “Relax,” Mickey said as he pulled Ian into the showers. “Just stay there and enjoy this. This is what you wanted, and now you got it.”

Mickey searched Ian’s eyes, looking for any lingering signs of discomfort, but he didn’t seem to find any. Instead, he could see the telltale signs that he was starting to get really turned on by this. Ian broke their gaze to begin kissing gently at Mickey’s neck as they stood there in the showers, jumpsuits and shoes still on. Ian had always been careful not to leave hickeys on him, but now he couldn’t care less.

“Wanna give him a good show?” Mickey asked, biting his lip as Ian focused on one spot and began to suck on the soft skin there. “Take these fuckin’ clothes off. Wanna see you.”

Wordlessly, Ian took off his shoes and socks before unbuttoning the yellow suit he was wearing and stepping out of it, leaving himself in just his white tank top and boxers. He helped Mickey out of his own clothing until he was also in just undergarments. Mickey moaned as Ian grabbed him from behind, so they were both facing Andrew, and began to palm the growing bulge in his boxers. Mickey felt himself twitch as Ian gently squeezed it before stroking him through the material. 

“Fuck, Gallagher. Guess this really does turn you on after all,” Mickey sighed, fighting the urge to thrust his hips into Ian’s hand.

Ian made a low, guttural noise in his throat before removing his hand and using it to pull the waistband of Mickey’s boxers down just enough to free his fully erect, dripping cock. The brunet let out a breath he hadn’t even been aware he was holding, then a soft whimper as Ian wrapped his long fingers around the throbbing flesh and gave it a few strokes.

“Like what you see?” Mickey asked Andrew, who was staring at them silently and in awe, like he had just seen Bigfoot. He was lucky, though, because what he was about to witness was very real and about to get even more hot and heavy.

Andrew nodded as he stared at Mickey’s cock. A clear string of pre-cum dripped down his swollen head, past his retracted foreskin that was bunched underneath it, and continued down the hardened shaft. A heavy silence hung in the air like a phantom around them.

“You can talk, you know,” Mickey chided their spectator.

“Y-yes. Please keep going...”

Ian groaned, seemingly turned on by Mickey’s brazen manner of addressing someone in a position of authority like this. Even though it had been years since they began doing this, Mickey knew Ian got off on his bad attitude and tendency to piss off any officers of the law, his “piece of South Side trash.”

“C’mere,” Mickey said, turning his head to meet Ian’s lips in a passionate kiss. The redhead continued to stroke him as they made out, Ian sliding his tongue into his lover’s mouth as they deepened the kiss further. Their bodies fit together perfectly - Mickey leaning up into Ian’s larger frame, the brunet’s neck craned upward to continue sucking Ian’s tongue.

As they separated, Ian released Mickey’s cock to push his boxers down the rest of the way, letting them fall to the floor, and began working on helping him take off his tank top as well. Still standing behind his shorter lover, Ian ran fingers of his left hand over the tattoo over Mickey’s heart while the right one returned to slowly, teasingly play with his dick.

“Remind him you who belong to,” Ian purred in his ear. “Let him see my name inked on your body forever. Let him know I fucking own your ass. Always.”

Mickey let his head fall back onto Ian’s shoulder as he began to pump his cock faster. “Fuck,” he panted. “Stop it or this is gonna be over too fast. Let me take your clothes off. You’re still wearing too goddamn many of ‘em.”

Ian removed his hands from Mickey’s body as the shorter man turned around to help the tall redhead undress, exposing his pale, rounded ass to their onlooker. He heard Andrew exhale loudly at the sight. Mickey’s cock twitched.

Once Ian was fully naked, Mickey turned back around to face Andrew, who by now had unzipped his pants, revealing the obvious tent that was forming in his boxers. Mickey could already tell he was big, and he was salivating at the thought of how jealous Ian was going to get knowing he was hot and well-hung, as if the guard was an actual potential threat to his claim.

Mickey noticed Ian’s eyes widen at first, then narrow in what must have been a mix of lust, concentration and a desire to put this dude who was eyeballing _ his _ man in his place. Ian growled as he spun Mickey around to face him. The brunet was no submissive little twink, and generally knew what he wanted. Even so, there were occasions when he liked to give up control. It was amazingly hot to see Ian dominant like this, and he wasn’t disappointing Mickey in the slightest right now.

His cock grew even harder, if that was even possible, at Ian’s next words.

“Get on your knees and suck my fucking cock. Show him how good you are at swallowing it for me, and let me fuck your throat.”

It would never have occurred to Mickey to not obey. He crouched in front of his partner, spit into his hand and began slicking the redhead’s long, thick cock, making sure it was completely coated before sucking the head into his mouth. Mickey bobbed up and down a couple of times, Ian silently making sure he was comfortable and was not going to hurt him before he began thrusting his hips firmly into Mickey’s face.

Mickey’s muffled sounds as Ian’s cock slid into his throat over and over were soon drowned out by the younger man’s cajoling encouragement to him and passionate moans.

“Fuck, that feels good,” Ian told him. “Fucking take that cock like a little fucking bitch.”

Ian knew damn well those words, in any other context, would have probably earned him a punch in the nose - which is why it was only that much hotter in the here and now. He felt his cheeks flush hotly, but he’d be lying if he said it didn’t turn him on even more still.

Seemingly throwing caution to the wind and wanting to stop with the toying around, Ian grabbed the back of Mickey’s head and began to pound into his throat harder. The brunet suppressed his gag reflex and just knelt there and took what Ian was giving him without protest.

A minute later, Ian pulled Mickey’s hair again. “Gotta stop. Don’t wanna finish.”

Mickey pulled off of his cock, eyes watering, but he didn’t care. He wiped them with the back of his hand and turned back around to see what Andrew was doing.

The CO was staring through heavily-lidded eyes, his boxers pulled down enough so that his erect cock was in his hand. Like Mickey had thought, he was big - probably almost as big as Ian - and he was stroking it slowly, waiting with bated breath to see what the passionate couple in front of him was about to do next.

Mickey smirked and gave him his trademark raised eyebrows. “Well, I can tell you liked that. Let’s see what you make of this.”

“Fuck yeah. I like everything so far,” Andrew stammered.

“Wait a minute,” Ian cut in and pointed at Andrew, not giving a fuck that he was telling a guard what to do. “You don’t talk to him. Don’t fucking say anything to him. Get on your hands and knees and face the back wall, Mick. Gonna open you up for me while he watches.”

Mickey gulped, unsure of whether he’d really like having his bare ass exposed while Ian stuck his fingers into him, but also extremely turned on by the way Ian had just put Andrew in his place. He looked at his boyfriend, who still seemed stern but passed a knowing glance to him, just to make sure he was okay with this. They had a safe word in case, but Mickey opted to just say “fuck it.”

Obediently, Mickey dropped to the tiled floor and got into position. Ian pulled Mickey’s discarded prison uniform toward him, enough to grab the lube out of the pocket, and popped the cap. Ian knelt at his side and ran the fingers of one hand along his lower back, at the dimples above where the swell of his ass began.

Mickey whimpered as one of Ian’s hands snaked underneath him to just barely brush at his cock, which was still painfully hard and in need of attention. He figured he wouldn’t be getting any relief soon, although depending on how this went he’d be really close to just straight up blowing his load untouched. It was a blessed relief when Ian’s lubed fingers poked at his entrance.

“Mmm,” Ian said as his fingertip breached the tight ring of muscle around Mickey’s hole. “Always so tight for me.” He turned his head to address Andrew. “Bet you’d like to know how he feels. He’s so warm right now, like he always is.”

“Fuck,” came Andrew’s voice. “Holy shit. I...just want to see you keep going. This is so fucking hot, I can’t even take it.”

Mickey couldn’t see Andrew’s face, but his voice sounded thick and as full of sex and lust as it possibly could have. Ian worked the one finger in and out before slicking up another and pushing it in next to the first one. He whined, an embarrassing sound as his cheeks grew redder still, but his body thought differently. Mickey’s cock continued to steadily drip onto the floor as Ian used his two fingers to pull his rim apart, stretching it before curling them very deliberately to hit his swollen prostate. Ian knew his body well enough to be keenly aware even without the choked gasp that exited Mickey’s mouth as the pleasure ripped through his body.

“Fuck!” he said, not even caring how much of a little bitch he actually did sound like.

“Mmmhmm,” Ian said as he continued to rub his fingers across that spot. Mickey shuddered and another whine escaped. His back heaved and he knew Andrew was watching everything, probably so fucking hard and needy now but unable to do anything else but watch. When Ian added a third finger, he just groaned, surprised he wasn’t just outright drooling onto the floor.

“Such a good boy for me,” the redhead added. “Always so good...so tight and warm, can’t wait to stick my cock in there. Feels so fucking good it’s so hard to keep from shooting as soon as I push all the way in.” He continued to hit Mickey’s prostate, a tease for what was about to come. “Gonna beg for me?”

“Goddamn it. Just fuck me. Ready for you. Don’t need more prep. I want it.”

His voice was so raspy, he barely recognized it, all of his usual toughness and bravado having exited the building long ago. _ Hell, they were likely on the L and halfway across the city by now. _

Without a word, Ian removed his fingers and then fucking _ grabbed _ Mickey around the waist with both hands to turn him 180 degrees. Mickey had never seen Ian like this before. While they were both jealous dudes, it was like Ian had been possessed and this primal entity, willing to just use Mickey until he couldn’t stand it anymore, was now standing in his place.

“Want you to look at him while I fuck you. You can eye fuck him all you want, but you aren’t gonna ever get any cock again but mine. And tell me how much you love it.”

The brunet moaned softly as he heard Ian open the lube again, slicking his hard cock. He looked up at Andrew. The CO was still jerking his thick, equally-hard dick as he watched events before him. Brown eyes met blue and Mickey kept his eyes locked on the other man’s as Ian lined up behind him and, agonizingly slowly, pushed in. He was staring straight into some other dude’s eyes as Ian fucked him. This was the most fucked-up, backward-ass thing he’d ever willingly chosen to do sexually. _ And he fucking loved it. _

“Fuck,” Mickey moaned. “Fuckin’ do it. Do me. Pound me hard, Ian.”

“Pretty sure you don’t get to tell me what to do,” Ian shot back. “Goddamn it, you feel so good. Maybe I’ll just tease you like this.” He pulled out slowly before pushing back in as Mickey’s internal muscles squeezed him, his body open and exposed for their audience. “You just stay there and take it for me.”

He continued this slow, maddening pace for only a few more thrusts before picking it up, presumably wanting to keep teasing but not being able to stand it any longer. The older man knew his lover just wanted to pound him until Mickey screamed his name in pure ecstasy.

By now, Mickey’s head had dropped down to rest on his forearms as he supported his upper half on his elbows. His body shook from the force of Ian’s hard thrusts into him, fevered moans escaping his mouth as he became a passive receptacle for Ian. He could hear Andrew’s hand working his own cock faster, as well as the little noises he was making. Mickey figured he was as turned on as Mickey and Ian were.

As if trying to poke the bear further, Ian began to address his dirty talk directly to Andrew. “You like watching me fuck him?”

“Yeah,” came the response. “Fuck, yeah. Keep fucking him for me. Shit.”

“Oh, no,” Ian said teasingly. He pulled out all the way and slammed back into Mickey, causing his lover to cry out. “I’m not fucking him for _ you. _I’m fucking him because he’s mine, and I’ll do what I goddamn well please to what belongs to me. You just watch because you know you want it but you'll never get it. This is what you’re missing.”

The redhead stopped moving and leaned forward to growl in Mickey’s ear. “You know you’re all mine. All of these other guys in this whole fucking prison can stare at this hot, perfect ass and want to stick their dicks in it. But it’s never gonna happen.” He grunted as he gave Mickey another hard thrust in, the way he knew was going to hit his spot, huffing in satisfaction as the noise Mickey made confirmed it.

He spoke up, now addressing Andrew. “You were watching us fuck in our goddamn cell like a perv. Fuck that!” He let out a long, ragged breath. “Bet you want some of this. Bet you want to come over here and slide your cock in his mouth while I keep fucking him from behind, huh? Ohhh, _ fuck_…but I’ll never share. Never giving this up.”

From there, things escalated as Ian continued to pound Mickey at a rapid pace, continuing the constant pressure on his prostate until it all became too much. The brunet raised his head and cried out loudly, meeting Andrew’s eyes as his cock, which had been bouncing, swollen and aching under him, exploded untouched.

His eyes squeezed shut again as his muscles contracted all at once and his milky seed spilled out onto the tile floor of the bathroom, landing in a small puddle as Mickey shifted his weight onto one side to free one of his hands, finally stroking his cock through the aftershocks.

“Fucking hell, Mick. So hot when you come for me like that...I know you really loved it.”

“I’m gonna come,” came the voice from the door. As if on cue, Andrew shot his load all over his hand, the rest dripping down onto the floor. Ian thrusted a few more times, panting heavily, sweat pouring off of his body, his rhythm becoming more uneven. Mickey could tell he wasn’t going to last much longer like this.

“Gonna give you my load,” Ian grunted in his ear. “I’m gonna shoot right...fucking...now!”

The redhead’s body shuddered as he pumped his orgasm into Mickey’s hole, cum splattering his insides as his muscles clenched around Ian. “Holy fuck!” He collapsed onto Mickey’s back, drained in every way possible. Their bodies, still joined, were both wiped out and exhausted from the mind-blowing round of sex.

Eventually, the tangled mass of limbs on the floor of the prison showers broke apart. Ian pulled out of Mickey, watching in awe as a small amount of his white fluid leaked out of his partner’s hole, his final, visible way of claiming his man.

“Now I’ve really marked you as mine,” Ian said, running two fingers through it.

From there, Ian and Mickey quickly rinsed off in the showers, scrubbing off their bodies with a fresh bar of soap Andrew handed them once he had regained his composure and cleaned his own hands. They dried off with towels that were hanging on the nearby rack before putting their clothes back on. As they headed toward the exit, Ian gave Andrew a smug look but said nothing to him as he led them into the hallway.

Andrew was about to open the door back to the main wing of the prison when Mickey spoke up. “So...you didn’t have to do this but you did - could’ve gotten in trouble, but you went outta your way to get your rocks off.”

The CO gave him a sheepish, guilty look. “I guess so,” he murmured. “Inmate Gallagher - I’m sorry I looked at Inmate Milkovich like that, and I shouldn’t have been watching you in your cell. Guess that makes us even. No hard feelings?”

Ian’s eyebrows raised. “I’m being released in three days and you’re going to be alone with him here for another whole _ month_. You’ll still have access to him and could do whatever you wanted to do. I still don’t fucking trust you, but I trust _ him_.”

By now, they were in front of their cell. Mickey walked in, but Ian hung back. He lowered his voice, but Mickey could still hear him. “As long as you keep your hands and eyes off the merchandise, I’m good. No more watching him. He’ll be calling me every day, and he _ will _ let me know if you try anything. But if you leave him alone? Then no...I’ll have no hard feelings.”

_Fuckin’ Gallagher_. Mickey chuckled to himself, thoroughly enjoying the result of his jealous boyfriend. Ian didn’t have anything to worry about, though, Mickey would be feeling the aftershocks of that fuck for weeks.


End file.
